Shoes and a boot
conceal the old, odd suitcase.
It is coaxed out
and emptied of wools,
plush wide-waled corduroys,
flannels, and leather. Everything
musky with suede-scent
and desiccants.
I’ve freed my bedside
window from a corpulent A/C
and sealed the panes.
Static electricity bristles the air;
the airing-out is over.
October’s leaves have turned—
an elapsed calendar page
ripped out.
And I return to the weathered
suitcase, refilling it
with folded and hand-smoothed
linens, flimsy silks,
and madras. Under the bed,
my cache is restored
like bulbs split and reburied
before the frost.
[This poem was published by The Eunoia Review.]
[Check out other original poems here.]
Really enjoyed reading this.
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Thank you.
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Lovely.
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Thank you. How’s school?
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Ugh… I have about seven essays to write. How are you?
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Good. As always, trying to find the balance between reading, reviewing, working, writing and singing among all the other little things that arise and descend.
You are known for constructing many long, well-contemplated essays in a very short time. So I trust you in your scholastic endeavor. [I can only assume that your analytic talent extends beyond Supernatural–though Jared and Jensen are inspiring . . .]
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Well, good luck with that! 🙂
And thank you- luckily my blogging has come in handy, as I’m now able to write a three-page essay in under 45 minutes. The toughest thing is, as you say, balancing the workload…
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Amazing ending lines! ❤
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Thank you.
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